


Routine

by ubercharge



Category: Team Fortress 2
Genre: Boys Kissing, Fluff, Gifts, M/M, Oneshot, i promise ya there aint gonna be heartbreak in this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-27
Updated: 2015-07-27
Packaged: 2018-04-11 14:20:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,894
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4438769
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ubercharge/pseuds/ubercharge
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>happy birth-gays for katie <a href="http://genuinanger.tumblr.com">genuineanger</a> <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/users/skarletfyre/">skarletfyre</a> !! <3</p><p>ok but real talk. like 'real talk' as in ill even capitalize and shit for this: Katie is one of my best friends for sure. One of those people whom I may not talk to daily, but still love with all my goddamn heart. It doesn't matter that we don't talk to each other daily, because there is still that close bond present. Also we tag each other in crap on the blue blogging website, which is great because I love to see what she tags me in. Katie is also an amazing writer. If you're in hat fanbase and you haven't read <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/2271144/chapters/4989870">What's Done In the Dark Will Be Brought to the Light,</a> then go do it right now because that is good shit. Good shit right there, if I do say so myself. And more than all of that I just spouted, Katie is among the most supportive people I know. I've had some painful, rough times throughout the past few months. Dark times. Bad times. All that bullshit. But whether I did or didn't expect anyone to actually come up to me, she's been there for me. Giving wise words, kind words. For that, I cannot thank her enough. And don't be surprised if I sing her praises, which I do quite frequently. She deserves the praise for her patience and friendship.</p><p>Have a great one, Katie. Love you. <3</p>
    </blockquote>





	Routine

**Author's Note:**

  * For [skarletfyre](https://archiveofourown.org/users/skarletfyre/gifts).



> happy birth-gays for katie [genuineanger](http://genuinanger.tumblr.com) [skarletfyre](http://archiveofourown.org/users/skarletfyre/) !! <3
> 
> ok but real talk. like 'real talk' as in ill even capitalize and shit for this: Katie is one of my best friends for sure. One of those people whom I may not talk to daily, but still love with all my goddamn heart. It doesn't matter that we don't talk to each other daily, because there is still that close bond present. Also we tag each other in crap on the blue blogging website, which is great because I love to see what she tags me in. Katie is also an amazing writer. If you're in hat fanbase and you haven't read [What's Done In the Dark Will Be Brought to the Light,](http://archiveofourown.org/works/2271144/chapters/4989870) then go do it right now because that is good shit. Good shit right there, if I do say so myself. And more than all of that I just spouted, Katie is among the most supportive people I know. I've had some painful, rough times throughout the past few months. Dark times. Bad times. All that bullshit. But whether I did or didn't expect anyone to actually come up to me, she's been there for me. Giving wise words, kind words. For that, I cannot thank her enough. And don't be surprised if I sing her praises, which I do quite frequently. She deserves the praise for her patience and friendship.
> 
> Have a great one, Katie. Love you. <3

It was routine.

Even if one asked either member of the party when it had begun, neither of them would be able to give an exact answer. It was more likely that they would not give any sort of answer at all. Perhaps a shrug at most, or a frown, or a dismissive wave.

There was comfort in routine, comfort in familiarity - and so it was a daily affair.

Every day, at seven-thirty in the morning, Spy would show up to the infirmary. It was the time in the morning just a bit before when the other mercs would be waking up, so he had no qualms about traipsing in half-dressed.

It didn’t matter much; Medic was always half-dressed, too.

Sometimes they greeted each other. A simple ‘good morning’ or ‘hello’, for the sake of politeness and little more than that. The formality was unnecessary, but just one of those constant things that wasn’t questioned when it occurred. If they could see each other, that really was hello enough for both of them. Simple greetings just couldn’t be held back sometimes.

Spy would have his suit jacket folded neatly and tucked under an arm. Most of the time, it was his left. He would set it onto Medic’s desk, and Medic would follow by setting his own white jacket on the desk right beside it.

Then they would lean against the desk, or stand in front of it, or Medic would take his seat. Whatever felt more comfortable, whatever it was that they preferred that morning.

They both had their white dress shirts on, the ones they wore under their jackets. Sometimes their ties would be in their hand, or already looped around their neck, ready to go. And they would start tying them.

That was the time when the silence would be broken from either person. The topics of their conversations were mundane at first, but grew to something more interesting. Spy could be lamenting how he’d been unable to polish his knives the night prior due to time constraints. Then Medic would bring something else up, and Spy would reply, and it would continue until they were entrenched in a heated debate about dubious usage of knives.

But no matter what they were talking about or discussing, be it a recipe for Swiss food or the fragility of life, one of them would always make the same comment sooner or later.

“Your tie is crooked,” Spy or Medic would say to the other.

And the statement would be inaccurate. Because no matter how far they were into conversation, the two were simply unmatched in their tie-tying skills.

“Do you want me to fix it?” would be added to the first sentence.

“I can do it myself, thank you very much,” the other would reply, often accompanied by an eye roll or huff.

Then they would continue, though more calmly than before. And when they finished tying their ties, they would put their jackets on, button them up, and smooth them down. Only then were the two ready to work on their weapon loadouts and whatnot.

Of course, routine was only routine so long as it was actually followed. The longer a routine was followed consistently, the easier it was to sever that consistency with an aberration.

But things happened.

On that such occasion, the morning had been cool. The sky had been clear, though, so there was promise of bright noonday sun, and thus, warmth.

Spy had woken up early as usual. He brushed his teeth, then showered first and alone as he always did. He put his balaclava on, followed by everything else - underwear, dress shirt, pants, socks with accompanying sock garters, gloves, shoes.

In the past he’d have a smoke, but he’d since learned not to do that as it displeased Medic greatly. He had no intention to displease Medic.

Sometimes he would eat if he had time before heading over to the infirmary, sometimes he ate afterwards.

That day, Spy had taken a little longer in the shower than intended. He headed to the infirmary and made a mental note to get breakfast after.

It was a no greeting kind of morning. Actually - Medic gave a nod. That counted. But Spy didn’t reply, just set his suit jacket down on top of Medic’s desk. Carefully, of course. And Medic set his own uniform jacket, folded neatly, beside Spy’s.

Spy leaned against the desk and worked at his tie that had been draped around his neck, dangling loosely. His movements were languid, slow - but they were steady. He knew what he was doing; he’d been through the motions so many times before he’d lost track.

There was little to say.

“I think I might head into Teufort this evening,” Spy said. “Take a look around.”

“Not much to see,” Medic replied, which was the truth.

There was a bit of back and forth about the town, mostly about how ridiculous its inhabitants were, and how shitty the bar was.

“Your tie is crooked,” Spy said, with the faintest hint of a smile.

Medic gave him a look that could only be described as expectant.

“Do you want me to fix it?”

Medic made eye contact and let go of his tie.

“Yes,” he said.

And that caught Spy off guard. Completely knocked him out of kilter. That was what marked that day as an aberration - neither of them had ever replied ‘yes’ to that question before. Not once. Ever since the question had initially been asked - by either Spy or Medic, neither could recall - and answered, it had not changed.

That could’ve been three months to a year or more ago.

Spy wanted to stammer a response, some kind of question, but he knew it would sound silly. He didn’t want to voice his... concerns about Medic’s reply to him. That would be rude and overall not something he wanted to say out loud.

So instead of asking, he let go of his own tie, walked up to Medic’s, and took his. It hadn’t really been crooked at all, but Spy undid it anyway. Hands clad in black kid leather gloves worked quickly, and moved with fluidity. Even though Spy wasn’t doing his own tie, he was more than capable of tying somebody else’s.

“Spy,” Medic said.

“Oui, what is it?” Spy asked.

“Why do you visit everyday?”

Spy hadn’t been sure of how to reply to that. He was perplexed in and out, and wouldn’t have been surprised if his confusion was visible on his face.

“I’ve gotten used to it.”

“Is that all?”

“...I enjoy talking to you. I suppose I enjoy your company.”

“You suppose.”

Spy finished with Medic’s tie and let it go. He looked up, right into Medic’s eyes. Grey, always looking like he was calculating or analyzing something, occasionally contemptuous or murderous, very cold. It did not faze Spy.

“I enjoy your company,” Spy said.

There was a beat of silence. Then Medic tipped Spy’s chin up with a rubber gloved hand, and leaned in.

“Really?” he asked, breath hot.

Spy flushed. What was Medic doing, exactly? What spurned this?

“Oui,” Spy said, swallowing hard.

“That’s good to hear,” Medic said. “I enjoy your company, too.”

“Merci...”

Medic had smiled at that. The kind of Medic smile that was as unreadable as the ocean, that could’ve been genuine happiness or a desire to gut the person whom it was directed at.

Spy wanted to wriggle free of Medic’s light grasp on his chin but he couldn’t will his body to do so. And when Medic pressed his other hand to Spy’s lower back to pull him closer, Spy _really_ could not make himself break free. He quivered.

“I should’ve done this a while ago,” Medic admitted.

Spy opened his mouth to ask what Medic meant as the doctor shifted his hand on Spy’s chin to brush his cheek, then trail along his jawline until it rested against the back of Spy’s neck.

Medic kissed him.

Spy felt the hand on his lower back clutch at him, at his suit. And his back arched as Medic pressed against him, against his torso, even against his crotch. Spy couldn’t help himself; he melted into Medic’s touch. It felt so good, it felt so... right. It felt right.

Spy actually moaned, low in his throat, as he allowed his lips to be parted and his entire being to heat up. He felt as if every nerve in his body was lit up, and as Medic’s tongue slid over his lower lip and pushed into his mouth, he felt brighter and brighter like he was glowing, rising up, flickering with fiery heat and sparks.

When Medic finally parted from him, Spy actually gasped. He was breathless as Medic helped him back up to a regular standing position.

“What did you do that for?” Spy asked. Not because he didn’t enjoy it, but because he wanted to know.

Medic blinked. He didn’t seem equipped to answer that, but he did try.

“I wanted to,” he said.

“You... wanted to? Wait, for how long?”

Medic chuckled at that. “Ever since I realized I didn’t want to kick you out whenever you came in here so early in the morning, and I wanted you to stay longer.”

“I always thought we just did this for... I don’t know, actually. For no reason in particular.”

“You’ve made me look forward to waking up in the morning. Our conversations are worth the daily turmoil of battle.”

“That... means a lot,” Spy said. It was the truth.

“So you don’t mind that I just kissed you with minimal warning?”

Spy was still blushing but the mask obscured it, for the most part. Although, the mask didn’t obscure his eyes darting to the side to avoid eye contact.

“I don’t mind,” he said. “I think it...” Spy closed his eyes. “It felt right.”

When he opened his eyes again, he could see Medic smiling at him. And the sight made Spy’s heart race, it really did.

It made his heart beat almost as fast as it did when Medic cupped his face and kissed him again, gentler this time.

“I... really, really don’t mind,” Spy breathed.

It was very rare for him to be at such a loss for words and it was thrilling for him to feel that way. A tad unsure of himself, but very sure of what it was he wanted.

“That’s a relief,” Medic said with a laugh, making Spy smile at him.

“We should get breakfast.”

Medic nodded.

“Thank you for fixing my tie.”

“De riens. It was my pleasure.”

They sat together at the breakfast table. That was pretty common, but they were also bumping each other’s knees and elbows. They were laughing and talking just a bit more throughout the meal.

That night, Medic invited Spy into his bedroom in the infirmary.

The morning after, things were the same. They tied their ties together. But they stood a little closer to each other as they did it.

It was something they’d done for a while now, although for a nondescript length of time throughout the months or even years. They’d both lost track of how long it had been. They just knew it was the same every morning with each other.

It was routine - sealed with a kiss.

**Author's Note:**

> hope u enjoyed. katie is a huge inspiration to me as both a writer and a radical human being. seriously tho love u so much friend ;w;
> 
> p.s. thank u for buying me DA:O UE i swear ill work on it i sWEAR


End file.
